


Heliotrope

by NiteWrighter



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Some side Symmarah, Very fluffy and self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 01:17:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19096792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiteWrighter/pseuds/NiteWrighter
Summary: Wedding fic for of Gency Week's Day 2 Prompt: Heliotrope-Eternal Love.Genji and Mercy are getting married---Okay, technically they got married in a rushed, panicked ceremony in shelled-out ruins in Ilios a couple months prior but this is FOR REAL this time. And by "FOR REAL" I mean there's actually a dress and cake and whatnot and not the threat of death hanging over everyone's head because technically the first time was 'For real' too.





	Heliotrope

Genji took a long steadying breath as he looked over his reflection in the mirror.

_Don’t fidget with the tie. Do not. Fidget. With. The. Tie._  he had to consciously remind himself. Satya had fixed it. Satya had fixed it with a hard-light bubble level. It was, as she stated, mathematically impossible for his tie to be more straight than it was currently. He brushed down the lapels of his jacket nervously. He looked dapper with his black jacket, gold tie, and green katasome chrysanthemum-patterned waistcoat. 

“How are you holding up?” he heard Hanzo’s voice and practically jumped out of his skin.

“Me?” Genji turned around and moved to lean his hand on the vanity’s dressing table, missed, stumbled, flailed, and managed to catch its edge before standing up straight and trying to act like the fumbling was all on purpose. “Good. Wonderful. I’m good.” Genji’s shoulder vents steamed, and Genji’s suit forced the steam to come out of the cuffs of his shirt and collar.

Hanzo chuckled. “I can tell,” he said, “You know… I never thought you would get married before me.”

“I’m already married before you,” Genji looked back in the mirror. “Ilios was easier–” he said quietly.

“You got married in Ilios because you both thought you were going to die,” said Hanzo, flatly.

“But we were just…  _us_  then!” said Genji, “The Angela I fell in love with–jet-lagged, makeup sweated off, hair scorched and Valkyrie suit all scuffed up from battle–that’s my Angela! And I didn’t have to worry about how I looked because…” his eyes trailed to he faceplate he had set on the vanity, “Because…” Genji stared at the faceplate for a few seconds and picked it up, “She’s going to look  _breathtaking_  today–I know she will. And I mean–I always did like the look of the helmet with the suit–” he said, to himself just as much if not more than Hanzo.

Hanzo’s stomach turned. These days Genji had more than gotten over most of his qualms about his appearance in making peace with his body, but the wedding day had to be a horse of a different color. He remembered when they were both boys together, Genji always preening, always reveling in his good looks.

_And I took that away,_ he though briefly, but shook his head. No. Today wasn’t about him and his guilt. It was about Genji and Angela. And he wasn’t about to let his mistake consume that.

Hanzo took a deep breath and stepped forward, putting a hand on Genji’s shoulder.

“Genji,” he said, “Ask yourself, what face would Angela like to see?”

Genji gave glance down to the faceplate in his hand, and then after a few seconds set it down on the vanity table. He drew in a steadying breath and turned around to face his reflection in the mirror one more time. He smoothed his hair, straightened his shoulders, and seemed satisfied with his appearance.

“This is really happening, huh?” there was a smile on his face, but a shake to his voice, as if everything could come crashing down in an instant–and knowing Overwatch, it most certainly could.

Hanzo gave Genji’s shoulder a squeeze, “You’ve come this far and fought this hard, haven’t you?” he said with a slight smile. Genji’s eyes glistened with tears and a laugh shook his breath.

“Please don’t cry,” Hanzo said on reflex before Genji suddenly took him in a tight hug. 

“I’m so glad you’re here for this,” he said softly.

Hanzo patted Genji’s back. “I’m glad I’m here, too,” he said, softly.

—

The champagne sloshed up against the sides of Mercy’s glass before she gulped down a sip. 

“You’re shaking,” said Reinhardt.

“I keep expecting something to go wrong–” said Mercy, setting the champagne flute down on a table before turning around and adjusting the top of her dress in a mirror. She tucked a bit of her hair back, but found it was hair-sprayed pretty firmly in place. She couldn’t go to her usual nervous tic, “Some–Some Talon attack, or a distress call on the other side of the world…”

“It took you and Genji well over ten years to get to this point, Angela, I think the world is willing to give you a day,” Reinhardt smiled and brought a finger up under Mercy’s chin to look up at him. “ _Your_  day.”

“Genji’s so much better at clearing his mind and focusing, not getting weighed down by a million nasty what-ifs,” said Mercy, smoothing down the skirt of her gown and turning around in the mirror for what was probably the 40th time. She looked at Reinhardt, “I’m glad you’re here, Reinhardt. Even with all your blustering about glory and adventure… I always did feel safer with you.”

Reinhardt stuffed back a sniffle. “You’re sure about this?” Reinhardt’s voice was on the verge of breaking.

“I talked it over with Torbjörn and we both agreed—Reinhardt, we  _literally rehearsed_ this. Why would I change that decision now?” 

Tears had welled up in Reinhardt’s one good eye. “You honor me,” he said, putting his massive hands on both her shoulders.

Mercy patted his hand. “The Crusaders protected evacuations of refugees like me during the Crisis, you and Torbjörn helped this organization feel like a family for me when I was starting out, you were our strike team’s shield for years, and you were among the first to come back when Winston sent the call out. You’ve believed in this team–in me, in everyone, more deeply than anyone. I’m sure walking me down a few feet of aisle is no problem for the Hero of Eichenwalde,” Mercy smiled and brushed a tear away from the corner of her eye, “And If you make  _me_  cry we’re going to ruin all the makeup Hana helped me out with,” she said, a slight shake in her voice.

Reinhardt sniffled and she hugged him close. He stooped to return the embrace, his beard tickling her forehead slightly.

“Ready?” said Reinhardt.

Mercy took a deep breath. “Ready,” she said, smiling.

—

It was a late afternoon in Gibraltar’s botanical gardens. The mediterranean heat and a recent rainfall had left the air feeling fresh and thick with green, floral scents. The wedding venue itself was a tree-shaded lawn framed by high hedges of vibernum with swathes of yellow hummingbird vine and white bougainvillea spilling over them. Most of Overwatch, a decent number of their civilian partners and family members, and a handful of Shambali monks were in attendance. In front of the crowd, under an impressive art nouveau-style hard-light arch, the wedding party took their places–Mei, Pharah, and Brigitte on Mercy’s side, McCree, Hanzo, and Tracer on Genji’s. 

Ana was seated at one of the front rows so she could see Pharah in the wedding party. Satya sat next to her, looking very studious at the hard-light arch.

“You really did a wonderful job here,” said Ana, looking up at the arch and the hard-light columns, “You helped out with Tracer’s wedding as well, didn’t you?”

“Well, this was easier to fix up than a hangar,” said Satya, before looking back at the arch, “…one side of this lawn must be lower than the other… I swear it’s leaning to the left–”

“It’s fine,” said Ana, putting a hand on Satya’s shoulder. Satya’s eyes trailed up to Pharah.

“She does look quite good in a suit, doesn’t she?” said Satya mindlessly.

“This is the second time she’s been a bridesmaid,” said Ana folding her arms a bit haughtily, “I expect you to fix that so this doesn’t happen a third time.” 

“What?” said Satya but she scanned the smug expression on Ana’s face and instantly felt her own burning, “Whuh–We haven’t–I mean not in  _detail_ —” Satya was stammering and Ana just snickered.

“I’m teasing, dear,” she said, elbowing Satya slightly, “…but also I’m not getting any younger.”

Satya dug through her clutch for deodorant wipes while Ana waved pleasantly at a confused-looking Pharah among the rest of the wedding party.

“Stop fidgeting with it,” whispered Hanzo.

“I ain’t fidgeting with it,” said McCree, readjusting his boutonniere for the eighth time.

Genji stood at attention, only briefly glancing back to Zenyatta, still looking like his serene master, but now donning more formal robes of the shambali rather than his tattered traveler’s sirwal. He gave a gentle glance to Genji and patted his shoulder. Genji himself had to consciously tell himself not to run his hands over his scars as he did when he was nervous or self conscious about them. 

_You’ve got this,_  he told himself internally,  _You’ve both got this. It’s going to be fine._ He smiled as he watched the flower girl and the ringbearer, two of Torbjörn’s grandchildren, made their way down the center aisle and handed the rings off to Zenyatta before taking their seats with the Lindholm family, who took up a sizable amount of seats in the audience. Torbjörn usually made a point of keeping his family separate from Overwatch-related affairs, but of course he would make an exception for Angela.

“…oh my god I just got it,” McCree suddenly whispered.

“Got what?” whispered Hanzo.

McCree pointed to Mei on the other side of Zenyatta. “Mei’d of Honor.”

Tracer snickered next to Hanzo while Pharah and Mei herself rolled their eyes.

Hanzo let out a weary sigh. “Jesse–” he started but then quickly cut himself off as the music started swelling up to the main march of Perpetuum Mobile. Past the rows of wedding guests, two figures emerged underneath a topiary archway at the opposite end of the garden. There was the massive black-suited figure of Reinhardt, and next to him, somehow made all the more bright by the looming black of Reinhardt’s suit was Mercy. 

She was glowing, beaming, dressed in a strapless cream-colored gown with a gold katasome-patterned obi-like sash around her waist, further secured by a green obi-jime. Her thick feathery hair was tied back in a braided bun, secured by a simple but elegant bachi kanzashi and her veil. She nervously rolled her fingers around the white and yellow ranunculus bouquet clutched in her hands. Steam suddenly vented out of the collar of Genji’s suit as Mercy hooked her arm in Reinhardt’s and he started walking her down the aisle. 

She gave Reinhardt’s arm a squeeze and her eyes flicked back to Genji as she gave him a lip-biting grin. Reinhardt looked ready to burst, holding back tears. Underscoring the music were the whirring clicks of pictures being taken, most of them from Ana’s phone, but a few from Bastion, Sombra, and Winston as well. Midway down the aisle, Mercy made eye-contact with Jack, who was attempting to obscure himself in the thick of the audience as best he could, but he gave her a single nod and she gave him one in turn. Finally they reached the end of the aisle and Mercy let her arm slip from Reinhardt’s as she took her place opposite Genji, and Reinhardt took a seat next to Ana and the music swelled to its conclusion.

“My friends,” Zenyatta started, “Ours is a changing world, and we are changing people. The one constant is that in this growth, in this change, our lives are meant to be shared with people we love. Families, friends, mentors, partners… love takes many different forms, it enriches our experiences, and it gives us the strength and growth to move forward to  _new_  adventures. That is why it is a joy to be here with all of you today, to see two people very dear to me begin a new life together.”

Mercy and Genji had gone the past ten years with every interruption, every crisis, everything the world could throw at them interrupting whatever moments they could steal away with each other. Today, however, fate smiled on them. As Zenyatta continued speaking, Mercy brought her eyes up to Genji’s and they shared a smile, and a wave of happiness and calm washed over Mercy knowing that, whatever happened, they loved each other. A meteor could come crashing into the earth obliterating everything, but it wouldn’t undo what they had felt, what they had shared, everything they had overcome to get to this point.

Thankfully a meteor didn’t come crashing into the earth (which was good, because they still had the reception, cake, and also the rest of their lives together to look forward to), and the ceremony went off more or less without a hitch (However, Ana did have to put her hand on Symmetra’s shoulder at several points to assure her that the arch looked perfectly fine and no, it was not lopsided). The rings, simple platinum bands, fit perfectly. Both Genji and Mercy drew a steadying breath when Zenyatta said, “And now, Angela and Genji will state their vows,” and gave a nod to Angela to begin.

Mercy smiled at Genji, and drew a card out from beneath her gown’s obi sash, thankful she didn’t have to stuff it into her cleavage. “Genji,” she read, “When I first met you, I never could have known our path would lead us here. And I couldn’t be happier for it. You are my dearest friend, my most loyal protector, and my greatest love. We’ve been by each other’s side–both mentally and physically–in sickness and in health, richer and poorer, in everything. Whatever comes next, I’ll happily face it with you. I love you.”

She reached forward, took his hand and squeezed it a little, letting her fingers slip from his to grip her bouquet again as Zenyatta said, “And Genji?”

“I–” steam suddenly flushed out of Genji’s collar and he let out a short nervous chuckle as he pulled his card out from his jacket pocket, “Wow,” he drew another deep breath before reading, “Angela, from the moment I first saw you, I knew my life would never be the same. You’re one of the most brilliant, kind, and selfless people I have ever had the honor of knowing, and I can think of no greater honor than sharing my life with you. In sickness–though that tends not to last very long with you–and in health, in richer and poorer. You are the love of my life, and I know we can take whatever this world throws at us as long as we face it together.”

“Do you, Angela, take Genji to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Zenyatta managed to make the question sound so warm and easy and casual. 

“I do,” Mercy answered, proud that she hadn’t interrupted him mid-sentence like she had in rehearsal and both times Genji proposed.

“Do you, Genji, take Angela to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“Yes,” said Genji, taking Angela’s hand, “I do.”

“Then by the power vested in me by the Monks of the Shambali and—” Zenyatta gave a glance to Sombra, who gave a thumbs-up, “And the Gibraltar Port Authority, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may seal this union with a kiss.”

It was Angela who closed the distance first. Genji only barely managed to get his hands on her shoulders when one of her hands cupped his cheek and her lips met his. Laughter and clapping rippled up from the crowd and the wedding party, along with some loud whirring and chirruping from Bastion and a bevy of camera flashes, then Genji suddenly wrapped an arm around Mercy’s waist as they kissed and he dipped her, prompting a handful of cheers, a shrill whistle from McCree and an even brighter flurry of camera flashes. Mercy’s lips broke from Genji’s in a laugh before she kissed him again as he brought her upright.

Amidst the cheers of the crowd, Ana saw Symmetra extend her prosthetic arm and snap her fingers. The hard-light arch stretching over Mercy, Genji, and their wedding party suddenly dissolved into a rippling mass of shimmering hard-light butterflies fluttering off in all directions before winking out of existence in a burst of sparkles. A swell of “oohs” rose up from the crowd and Ana gave a glance over to Symmetra who just smirked at her.

“…That was good,” said Ana.

“Oh,” Symmetra gave an airy wave of the hand, “I just needed to test out some hard light particle algorithms” She looked over at Pharah, who managed to cup her hands around one of the hard-light butterflies, then open it only to find a small burst of blue sparkles. Symmetra smiled. McCree poked at another butterfly that also exploded into blue sparkles and looked a bit sheepish about it but Hanzo just snorted next to him as Genji and Mercy held each other close amidst the swarm and sparkles, their foreheads touching.

—-

The reception was held out in the open night hair, with strings of lights hanging in the trees overhead, lighting the temporary dance floor up as music thrummed. Mercy and Genji shared their first dance as catering set up everyone’s dinner for the evening. 

“So…” Genji gave Mercy’s waist a slight squeeze as they danced together, “Better than Ilios?”

“Hmmmm…” Mercy glanced off pretending to look thoughtful before just grinning and kissing him on the corner of the mouth, “It’s perfect,” she said, smiling.

“Don’t call it perfect yet, McCree still has to give his best man speech,” said Genji.

“Oh god,” said Mercy, snickering a little, “You know he knows too much.”

“How bad can it b–” Genji started but Mercy suddenly dipped him.

“You know how bad it gets when we say ‘How bad can it be,’ right?” she said with a smirk before bringing him upright.

“Well,” Genji twirled her, “Anything this night can throw at us, we can take it.”

“You really think that?” said Mercy, arching an eyebrow.

“Well you married me, didn’t you?” said Genji, before kissing her. It would be far from the last kiss that night.


End file.
